


Stephanie Brown: An Earth 3 story

by Bear_Out_Of_Hundred_Acre_Wood, Mia_Ellen



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Blackmail, Crime Syndicate of America, Earth-3, F/M, Gaslighting, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, It Doesn't Really Get Better, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Multi, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Political Campaigns, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:14:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26292463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bear_Out_Of_Hundred_Acre_Wood/pseuds/Bear_Out_Of_Hundred_Acre_Wood, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mia_Ellen/pseuds/Mia_Ellen
Summary: “Get in the car, Stephanie.”She stopped, so did the car. Steph’s heart sank as she realized she’d lost the silent battle without even giving up a fight. Her breath hitched as she breathed in through her mouth, eyes filling with a liquid that wasn’t rain. For the first time, she looked around to see the driver.“What if I just... didn’t?”
Relationships: Earth-3 Lois Lane | Superwoman/Thomas Wayne Jr. | Owlman, Stephanie Brown/Thomas Wayne Jr, Stephanie Brown/Tim Drake
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please be cautious as there is non-con between Steph and older men but I don't like writing sex scenes so it won't be too explicit, but if it does become so I will say in the note beforehand & change the tags. Steph is 20 when the story starts and Thomas coming to middle-age but it's implied they have been "sleeping together" for a while beforehand.
> 
> Got this idea after reading somewhere at some point that it would be interesting if, seeming as Steph is after Batman's approval in New Earth, that maybe Owlman will be after Steph in Earth 3, which I agree would be really interesting so here that is. Hopefully. Maybe. I don't know yet.  
> Kinda hate the Earth 3 they put in the most recent Young Justice, hate the Drake character and Steph wasn't given enough story other than Tim sorta creeping on her. This is set before then so it doesn't matter but still. Steph may still become Batwoman though because God Dahm It! she deserves respect in at least one universe!  
> 

The rain soaked through Stephanie's clothes. From her non-waterproof jacket to her canvas shoes, not even her bag was designed for the torrential rain that bounced off the dark sidewalks and flooded the sides of the road.

It was later than Stephanie had planned, the forecast said it would be dry all day with a thunderstorm hitting the city that night. Now it was eight-thirty, and the storm could be heard roaring in the distance, the distance Stephanie was walking towards.

She was shivering, her arms wrapped around her middle and hands tucked under her armpits in an attempt to warm them while providing some shelter for her bag. The canvas bag that held her otherwise uncovered laptop, along with the dead phone she’d forgotten to charge the night before. Not forgetting the balled up tights she’d snagged on a table after dropping her coffee all over her top. Today was really,  _ really _ not Stephanie’s day.

Before lunch, after her phone died, Stephanie nearly called the day short. She’d managed to pull a scholarship out of Gotham City College by doing some things she wasn’t particularly proud of, staying in a crappy apartment off-campus. The sole reason she didn’t leave then was because her latest results were due to release during the next lecture. Steph had hoped it would cheer her up.

She got a D, which is substantially lower than her average. Even though going home wouldn’t have changed the result, it would have prevented it from being yet another shitty thing that had happened that day. It also would have prevented the professor calling on her at the end for a chat about it. He suggested they get a drink at the cafeteria, where she spilt her coffee and ripped her tights. He explained that this one low grade shouldn’t affect her GPA if it were a one-off. He talks about how she clearly had a rough day, pointing out her recently coffee-stained top, suggesting she’d probably had a rough couple of weeks. He told her how that was okay, and the college provided services to help if she needed them, even gave her a few numbers of different people. One was for anxiety, others were for depression, substance issues etc.

Having a professor check up on her like that, take notice and ask questions should have been comforting for Stephanie. But she couldn’t help resenting him for it.

When she was able to get away from the laborious conversation, Steph had planned on catching the bus closer to her apartment building. Unfortunately, she didn’t know the busses that side of the city very well, and she’d spent the last of her change on the coffee she didn’t get to drink.

That takes us to Stephanie walking home, late, wet and pissed off at the world. She thought about what the professor said, wondering if it had been a bad couple of weeks. Stephanie hadn’t noticed a decline in her life before that day. Having a substance problem was crossed off the list almost instantly. She had a bad habit of overdoing her drinking sometimes, but it wasn’t every time, and Steph wasn’t a frequent drinker. She hadn’t even touched drugs since high school.

Just as she was thinking through the other suggested explanations, a car honked its horn behind her. Stephanie didn’t jump at the noise that would have startled others; the streets were silent apart from the heavy rain sound and the occasional car driving by. Still, she looked around sharply to see the reason for the attention-grabbing sound, just to be blinded by the glare of headlights.

Stephanie was quick to lift her hand, shielding her eyes from the brightness. She wondered how she missed the increase of light as she walked, brushed it off as being deep in thought. The car had pulled up alongside her, stopping not five feet from where Steph stood confused. A wave of danger washed over her, but Steph didn’t want to discount the car being a threat until she was able to note what car it was. Being able to catch a lift from someone she knew would have been a Godsend.

Unfortunately, as the headlights dimmed in a forgiving act, she recognised the silver Porsche that cost more than her entire tuition. Stephanie thankfully didn’t turn entirely around when she stopped, so walking away was a swift movement.

Her pace picked up from before, soaked hair falling over her face as she put her head down, trying to pretend she hadn’t just given him a fully lit view of her face and that she was perhaps someone else. As if the day couldn’t get any worse.  _ Don’t cry _ , Steph told herself sternly as she walked. Even if the rain would hide it from her face, she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of pushing her over the edge because he doesn’t know how close to the edge she was to begin with.

After taking around ten fast-paced steps, the car’s lights turned up again, haloing her from behind and casting a long shadow of Steph’s pitiful outline across the sidewalk. Visually telling her he was still there, the car continuing crawling along the flooded road silently. Both of them were stubborn; he had a car, and she was already soaked.

It surprised Steph when he broke first, after what felt like an hour of walking, the Porsche drove out of position and pulled alongside her. She didn’t stop, and neither did him.

“I called you.” He didn’t need to yell over the sound of the rain, his voice travelled through it fine, Steph didn’t hear him roll down the window.

“Phones dead.” She called back, stringing her voice, not having the projection he had. Steph didn’t look round, she kept her head down and body tight.

“Is that right?” It was rhetorical, his voice droned as it did when he got frustrated,  _ good. _ “Lucky I came to pick you up then, isn’t it?”

Steph instantly thought of a thousand things to yell back stemming from,  _ “Lucky my ass”  _ to  _ “How long were you driving around to find me? Comes off a bit desperate!” _ She said nothing.

For another long minute, they travelled in silence. The situation really mustn’t have been doing the Porsche any good, a car like that wasn’t made to be creeping across flooded drains.

Once again, he broke the silence, “Get in the car, Stephanie.” His voice changed, no longer the half-hearted back and forth they had, but an order.

She stopped, so did the car. Steph’s heart sank as she realised she’d lost the silent battle without even putting up a fight. Her breath hitched as she breathed in through her mouth, eyes filling with a liquid that wasn’t rain. For the first time, she looked around to see the driver.

Thomas Wayne Jr. was leaning across the passenger seat looking through the open window. His matured face was blank save from slightly narrowed eyes framed by rectangle glasses.

Arms becoming like lead, Stephanie allowed them to fall to her side. Her eyes became unfocused as she tried not to meet his. She didn’t have the energy to yell out her next words, “What if I just... don’t?”

Thomas didn’t reply. For a moment, he just stared at her, watched Stephanie’s dead eyes staring at nothing as the rain rolled off her person. He knew what she was really asking him, even if she didn’t realise it herself. But it didn’t matter what Thomas would do if she were to deny him, if she ran, fought back or screamed. She wasn’t going to.

When the passenger’s door opened, and Thomas straightened up behind the wheel, Stephanie got in. She didn’t drag her feet in the puddled water like she wanted to, nor did she toss her bag thoughtlessly onto the back dash. Steph sat with her wet bag between her wet shins, pulled her hair around to her front to reduce the amount of dripping it would do and kept her jacket on, as removing it would just create more mess. Just as Thomas knew she would do.

As soon the door was closed again, Thomas was speeding off. The door’s lock was loud in the silence of the car’s engine, the car's occupants and the dull rain. Stephanie couldn’t help the sigh she exhaled, her head lolling back and eyes closing, she wasn’t relaxed though, her limbs were still tight.

It was warm in the small space, Thomas must have turned on the seat warming ready for when Steph got in. She couldn’t deny it was nice to be out of the freezing rain. The circulated air was polluted with Thomas’ cologne, it wasn’t  _ unpleasant, _ but it didn’t comfort Stephanie any. This being his day car, the one he’d take too and from meetings, only Thomas spent any considerable time in it, so it smelling like him was no surprise.

“Bad day?” Thomas’ voice was quiet, spoken as though it was small talk he didn’t care much for. That’s precisely what it was.

Not wanting to open her mouth in case her voice hitched again, Steph only nodded in response. He didn’t bother to push the conversation any further.

The drive should have taken longer than it did. Thomas drove like he owned the city and everyone in it; like he didn’t give two shits about getting in an accident or hitting a pedestrian. Stephanie hated the way Thomas drove.

When they arrived at the manor, the storm was long behind them. Travelling from in the Atlantic in the South-East, the main body would likely hit Bristol in the early morning hours. This didn’t prevent the rain from making its debut early. Steph was thankful when the car was parked in the sheltered garage and not the front courtyard, she couldn’t help but wonder if the rain was the only reason for that decision.

Only as they both got out did Stephanie see what a contrast they were. Thomas was still in his work suit, suggesting he’d picked her up on his way back from Wayne Tower, whereas Steph looked like a drowned rat. She kept her eyes down after her realisation, looking at the puddle she was creating on the floor. With the changing of the temperatures, from cold to warm to cold again, Steph’s nose ran, and she instinctively wiped it with her sleeve, it was a dirty top anyway.

“You look a fucking state,” Thomas commented with disgust, breaking the settled silence. Usually, Steph wouldn't allow Thomas’ uncensored opinion to bother her. She knew he did it to chip away at her self-esteem and typically thought herself better than to fall for it. Today though, her layers were previously cracked, the hit was able to reach her core. 

She looked up to watch Thomas making his exit, her already leaky eyes welling up again. Thank god for the rain. “Clean yourself up quickly,” he continued without looking around, “you’ve wasted enough of my time today.” And with that, he disappeared down the traders’ passage that connected the garage (which used to be the stables) to the servants’ floor.

Steph was sure to follow, taking her time retracing the mans’ steps down the long passage. The end forked out in three directions; straight on to the kitchens and right-angled at both sides, connecting the wings of the manor together. These were lined with more corridors, creating a labyrinth of windowless passages that, from anything other than a bird's eye view, seem impossible.

Before Thomas’ parents, Thomas Sr. and Martha, lost their financial security, the servants would run the house through the building's back routes, scared to be seen. The only reason Thomas Jr hadn’t brought back that element of his ‘old’ life, was because the idea of not having direct control over unseen staff was  _ displeasing _ to him. He would rather entrust Alfred to do it all and hire part-time help when necessary.

By the time Steph made her way to the fork, Thomas was out of sight, having already gone up one of the many staircases and into the manor. Stephanie wasn’t so confident, a few times prior she had gotten lost in those corridors and had to call someone for help. Not trusting the day's luck, Steph decided it was best to simply go up the first staircase she came across; enter the manor as efficiently as possible then work out the rest from there. 

Thankfully, her first try took her to the dining room, going through a wall panel that was invisible from the wallpapered side. It would normally make Steph feel pleased, getting lucky like that, but she was exhausted in more ways than one. Her wet shoes squelched against the hardwood as she walked, creating a damp trail leading out of the dining room and into the main body of the house.

From there, the layout was a lot easier to navigate, and Steph was able to make her way to the guest bedrooms without issue. Alfred only placed fresh laundry in one of the rooms, wether or not he’d intended to dumb that room Stephanie’s was unclear, it could have been a coincidence. During Steph’s first real stay there, she’d inspected a couple of rooms before putting down her bag, being able to be picky because of how many rooms there were to choose from. The one she now went to instinctively was the only room with towels set out on the bed, it was across from a bathroom that Steph realised was equipped with toiletries, and just out of the way enough that not much foot traffic passed her by. It was ideal, Alfred chose well for her, if that was what happened.

When she got there, to the undistinguished door a few rooms in from the opening of the hallway, Stephanie was eager to close it behind her. Despite the lack of a lock, it was symbolic to shut out the outside world, even if that room was still a part of it. 

Very rarely did anyone bother Steph once the door was closed, so much so that she was suspicious only Alfred knew which door she slept behind. The thought was somewhat comforting if nothing else was, the fact that only the two of them have reason to enter her ‘personal’ space.

The room was cold, as expected, and the first thing Stephanie did, after turning on the overhead light, was turn up the radiator that stood across from the bed. It was slow to warm up, but Steph was eager to get out of her soaking outfit. Her light jacket covered most of the cast iron, her shoes placed underneath with her socks tucked around the pipes. Hopefully, they will dry overnight.

Her bag was emptied out on the bed, the thick eiderdown that covered the bedding getting second-hand damp. Steph made sure to wipe down her laptop with a towel before placing it on the otherwise empty desk. Her mobile was also wiped down before Steph abandoned it on the bedside table, she didn’t have a charger there, and she wondered if it was worth asking to borrow one. The other things were left scattered as Steph added the bag to the radiator. 

Next on Stephanie’s priority list was having a shower, the idea of the hot water washing away the day’s events and providing a metaphorical rest button seemed like heaven to the girl. She peeled off her top as she walked to the dressing table that enclosed some shower stuff that had been left there. Stephanie had once been suspicious about the bottles being half empty when she first looked, but not given much other choice she used them anyway. Now those bottles were nearly empty, and Steph’s main concern was about the protocol of restocking; the shampoo and conditioner were amazing, and she hadn’t been able to find it herself, the internet claims it had been discontinued. 

Gathering up the toiletries in one arm, Steph unzipped her skirt on her way back to the bed, letting it crumple up on the floor with her shirt. She used her free arm to scoop up the towels from the bed and made her way out of the room. 

The bathroom across the hallway had to have been refurbished in the sixties going by the coloured porcelain and gross tiles. It was a complete contrast to the historically Gothic tones of the hallway, Stephanie wondered about the mental state of who picked them out.

Getting to that point was fully automated. Steph wasn’t letting herself think too much, putting up a mental barrier to prevent herself from thinking about the awfulness of the day. It was necessary to bury everything from this point, too take whatever was going to happen next in stride. She didn’t have time to think things through properly, and the last thing she wanted was to create an association between Thomas and spilling coffee.

One step into the drafty hallway, however, Steph’s attempts at mental vegetation became impossible. 

She saw him before he saw her. The manor was so big, and with so few household members, Steph couldn’t have imagined bumping into anyone in the hallway. Let alone Mr Timothy what-the-fuck-are-you-doing-here Drake. 

Because he was walking away from her, Tim could have very easily kept walking without being any the wiser, but Stomp-phanie Brown had to close the door heavily and make the teen turn to see who was there.

He did just that. Their eyes locked (unintentionally on Steph’s part) and for a long moment held a shocked vs confused staring match. Tim lost after Stephanie smiled cringingly, catching his attention. His eyes travelled down towards her mouth naturally, travelling further down to her underwear-clad body too.

“Uh…” Tim quickly averted his eyes to the ground as Steph felt her face grow hot in the realisation. She tried to be smooth as she loosened her grip on the towel, allowing it to drop slightly and block her patterned panties from Tim’s view. It did nothing to hide her worn out, bubble-gum grey bra.

Despite this, her initial embarrassment faded when Timothy continued, “You’re Steph, right? From Gotham Heights High?” His voice clear of any indication of embarrassment or awkwardness and Steph couldn’t help the smile that accompanied her now rosy cheeks.

_ He remembers me _ . “Yeah,” Stephanie replied, voice cracking slightly as the shock settled down, “And you’re Tim Drake.”

“Yeah,” Tim confirmed unnecessarily, looking up from the ground was a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

The two went to high school together, for a short while. With Tim being two academic years behind Steph and then the mysterious disappearing, they didn’t have a massive story of high school hijinks. When Tim disappeared, it was to no one’s surprise or concern, the kid was a genius loner that was better than those around him. Not that he’d say so out loud, but it was clear he was from a different world than the other kids. After he stopped showing up at Heights, it was presumed he’d gotten into a better school, one where you slept on campus and had to wear a blazer. Thomas' place wasn't where Steph imagined bumping into him again, not by a long shot. 

Apparently, she’d been thinking a similar thing as Tim, who contained on with, “What are you doing here?”

“Having a shower,” Steph answered automatically, nodding towards the bathroom door he stood beside. A new wave of embarrassment washed over her; that’s not what he meant-

“That’s not what I meant…” Sill, Tim looked towards the door like he didn’t know what was behind it before then. “I mean,  _ here _ here. At Wayne manor… in your underwear.” Tim wasn’t so polite as he had been, eyes freely wondering as he spoke, tracing her bare skin, over her arms and their faded tan, collar bone that framed a small pendant, exposed chest.

It should have phased Stephanie, being ogled like that, but she was so used to being objectified, she didn’t even notice him doing it. The embarrassment she felt, the shift of weight she did, was a result of the question, not the action that accompanied it.

She took her time to respond, not wanting to come out with another thoughtless response. By the time she was ready to give her comeback, to point out that it was just as surprising to see Tim there, the teen had once again met her eye, waiting for an answer. “Well, Timothy,” she started with confidence, chin rising slightly, “I could ask you the same thing.”

What she didn’t expect was Tim to break out in a smile, laughing lightly at her comment. It didn’t sound right though like Tim was trying to keep the laugh in like a cough, the small blurts of a chuckle coming out inconsistent and strained. Somehow it sounded like Tim had never laughed before and didn’t know what was happening. Steph was in equal parts concerned and disheartened by his reaction. “No,” Timothy started to reply, folding over slightly with the continuation of his asthma attack laugh, “you can’t.”

“Stephanie!”

The sound of the girl's name bellowed up through the halls like a lion's roar, instantly grabbing Steph’s attention. Her head instinctually turned towards the sound of the call, scared that she’d see someone stood there like a phantom. After confirming the hall was otherwise empty, her gaze went back to Tim, who’d stopped laughing and was now staring back at her.

For a long moment, they were both silent, the staring match picking back up with a team swap; confused vs shocked. 

“I better go…” Steph said, voice whispered and hollow, her feeling of dread surfacing without permission. Usually, there would be no hesitation, Steph didn’t give herself enough time to feel or think. Thomas was someone she was choosing to deal with, after all, it was her choice to be there. Why was that suddenly different?

Tim’s brow creased further, “Why is Tom-?”

His question was cut off when another call came bellowing across the manor, “Stephanie, where are you?”

Without stalling longer, Steph began to walk towards the voice’s direction, her head dropping. She didn’t get to have a shower, her toiletries being pressed into her middle with the arm holding her towel. 

When the hand gripped around her forearm, Stephanie’s heart stopped. She froze in place, terror creeping over her. It wasn’t uncommon, with the number of secret doors and passages, for Steph to be jumped as she walked around. Not knowing if it was Thomas using misdirection, or one of the Talon’s being an assailant, Steph looked around with unease. She didn’t expect to see Tim’s hard stare looking back.

Before the confusion showed on her face, Tim was speaking, “Are you one of them?”

It caught her off guard, both the act and the question.  _ What is he doing? _ He knew Thomas was calling, so why was he sabotaging her? Was he in on the other’s joke? Did he too take pleasure in her misfortune and torment?

“Last call Stephanie.” The third call came with the introduction of movement, the marble that floored the entrance hall caused his steps to echo. The entrance hall was connected to the main staircase that wasn’t far away. Steph would only need to make it to the landing to be seen.

Still, Tim didn’t let go of her arm. It went against her instinct to test his grip, Steph tensing her arm slightly to feel if it was loose enough to pull out of. As expected, Tim simply tightened his grip in retaliation, repeating his question as he did so, “Are you one of them?”

Stephanie realised the only way he would back off was for her to answer the question, even though she wasn’t sure what it was he was asking. The urgency was growing as Thomas’ audible footsteps dampened as he reached the stairs. Perhaps Tim had never been on the receiving end of Thomas’ temper? Maybe he didn’t know and wasn’t deliberately making the situation worse for his own enjoyment. Surely not everyone was like that.

It was then that Steph realised what Timothy meant by ‘one of them’ and the thought sickened her. She shook her head quickly, “No.”


	2. Chapter 2

Rain continued to pour down over the outer city, creating rhythmic sounds of droplets hitting windows. Cold light washed out the decor’s dark tones, the clouds blocking out the sun's warmth.

Stephanie tucked her hands into her sweater's sleeves as she walked down the hall, the chill affecting her more than she’d anticipated. Her bare feet were numb on the wooden floors, the change to tile was barely noticed. Still wet from the night before, Steph’s shoes remained tucked under the iron radiator. Other footwear was provided, but the girl chose to ignore them.

Breakfast was always served at 7 am, the only group meal the household typically participated in. The smell of warm coffee was inviting. Stephanie’s throat was raw; she was hopeful a hot drink would settle it.

When Steph entered the conservatory-esque breakfast room, she was surprised to find a distinct lack of people. She was admittedly late, no one else was likely to come in after her. Usually, the round table would seat an average of five.

Today there were only two. Thomas and Richard sat opposite each other, both quiet and still. As soon as Stephanie saw the pair, she pulsed in her moment, feet frozen in step. 

She felt like she was walking into something she shouldn’t be seeing, like barging in on a love affair. The cold she felt while walking the halls was replaced with an awkward heat while Stephanie entertained the idea of simply turning around and going back to her room. 

This feeling Stephanie had wasn’t indicative to the scene she had walked into. Nothing unusual was occurring between Thomas and Richard, they were both sitting on their own devices, taking sporadic sips of coffee. But Stephanie had learned that coming between the duo was nothing short of a death wish. When they argue, you leave them to it, when they brainstormed, you cover your ears, when they share a simple joke, you pretend not to get it.

Jason was an example of what happens when someone tries to come between the Owl and his original Talon. Although Steph was over-exaggerating the threat in her head, the cautionary tale had its intended outcome.

However, before she could retreat, Alfred suddenly appeared behind her, entering the room with a jug. Steph didn't have time to react, the man moving silently and not giving any indication he was coming. He expelled a heavy sigh when slipping past the girl in the doorway, as though she was the biggest obstacle and largest inconvenience in the world. 

Alfred moved in long, continuous motions that were still, somehow, rigid and proper. He poured water into both Thomas' and Richard's glasses, without recognition, before pouring out a third glass closest to where Steph stood. The chair to the now soiled table set was pulled out, and Alfred waited for Stephanie to sit with an eye roll.

Having the decision (to stay or not to stay), made for her, Steph took the offered seat. She did mutter, "Thank you," but it was so quiet Steph wasn't sure if it was audible. 

Without a reply, Alfred moved back, picking off Stephanie's cup and saucer as he did. He moved from Steph's eye line, and the girl wasn't willing to look after him.

The butler didn't like Stephanie. He told her as such. In Alfred's opinion, she had some of the worst manners he had ever encountered. Stephanie realised there was an element of sexism to his statement; she should know everything about the upper-class world and act accordingly simply because she is a woman. Never mind Richard, who crosses his legs under the table or Jason and his overriding defiance. 

It was easy to ignore. As much as Alfred wished Stephanie knew her place, he knew his.

Stephanie tried to settle into the silence, she wasn’t sure if the room was tense, or if it was just her. She was a chair closer to Thomas than Richard, but that made little difference, both ignored her.

Breakfast that morning was an array of pastries, a basket of them presented in the table’s centre; from croissants to sweet pinwheels. Stephanie didn’t want to move, but as she looked over the basket, her hunger made itself known. She hadn’t eaten anything since lunch, and even then she only had a broken granola bar she found at the bottom of her bag. 

Deciding not to overthink it, Steph reached out to grab an apple pinwheel, placing it on her plate. As soon as she did though, Richard placed his phone on the table.

“Good morning, Stephanie,” he greeted, looking towards her calmly. Richard picked his cup up but didn’t drink from it. It was almost like the cup was a symbol for his attempt as a conversation.

Although Steph couldn’t rationally link her reaching out for a pastry as a trigger for Richard’s attention, she shouldn’t help but kick herself for inviting it. In the same moment, Alfred replaced her cup with one full of coffee. The Butler pulled back before Steph had a chance to thank him, his attention shifting to Thomas’ near-empty cup.

Stephanie ignored Alfred willingly, glancing up only to reply a polite, “Morning, Richard,” before re-averting her eyes and taking a mouth full of the sweet, buttery breakfast. She hoped filling her mouth would send off the hit she didn’t fancy a chat.

Richard was… one of the more complex members of the Wayne clan. Unlike the others who wore their story on their sleeves, Richard made a very conscious effort to keep his private life private and motivations to himself. He smiled the warmest, laughed the loudest and seemed the most integrated into normal society. The charismatic right hand to serious Mr Wayne.

But Steph knew it was a facade. She’d witnessed what happens to those that fall for it. She nearly fell victim herself. 

Ignoring her signs of disinterest, Richard continues with the morning chit-chat. “Did you sleep well?” With his tone so casual and friendly, Stephanie couldn’t tell if the question was a joke or not.

She’d seen herself in the mirror before leaving her room, she knew the dark circles under her bloodshot eyes were visible. Noticed the grey tone that paled her face through the fake tan. Sleep in the manor was a luxury Stephanie rarely experienced and the few hours she’d managed to piece together the night before wasn’t enough to refuel the physical and emotional exhaustion she experienced.

“Not particularly,” Steph answered, keeping her eyes down. She reached out to take a drink of the coffee. It was too bitter, but she drank it anyway.

Despite not being asked, Richard continued the conversation. “Neither did I,” he mulled, placing his elbows on the table, rolling the warm china in his hands, “The storm last night was terrible.”

“I’m not apologising.” Thomas’ comment came out of seemingly nowhere, and it grabbed Steph’s full attention instantly. The girl put down her cup as she looked towards the older man, even before she’d processed what he’d said.

He continued to type on his tablet, the statement hanging in the air around him like it wasn’t there. Steph was confused, and for a moment she thought she was hearing things.

Luckily Richard responded, “Wouldn’t expect anything more.” Steph watched him take a deep drink, his eyes narrowing over the cup towards Thomas.

It became clear this was an issue between them, and as Stephanie knew, it was best to not get involved. She lowered her eyes again, heat rising inside her at the uncomfortable feeling of intrusion. Taking another bite of her pinwheel, she tried to judge whether or not she could slip out the room without being noticed.

The longer the silence lasted, the more uncomfortable Stephanie felt. She continued to eat her pinwheel, deciding that when she’s finished she would be able to excuse herself. Unfortunately, the sourness of her throat meant swallowing wasn’t the easiest thing to do, so bites had to be small and chewed furley. 

Eventually, Richard continued the conversation. To Stephanie’s absolute horror, he was back to making small talk with her. “So, Steph, how do you know Timothy?”

The second attempt at conversation was unexpected, Steph slowed her chewing. It wasn’t an odd question for Richard to ask, but Steph was surprised that her and Tim’s meeting the night before had travelled so quickly. 

She swallowed her small mouthful before looking back up to Richard. Steph had been mentally preparing for the moment she would be confronted about this, she realised it would likely be Richard who did the digging, Thomas wouldn’t trust himself to be so casual about it. But she didn’t expect it to be so soon. “We went to school for, like, half a semester a few years ago.”

Of course, that was the truth, she was surprised they hadn’t already made that connection of timelines before.

Richard’s brow frowned slightly, his eyes shifting to look back towards Thomas, “I thought you said Timothy was a boarding school kid.”

The underlying accusation that Steph was lying made her heart rate raise and back straighten up instantly. That question was meant to be the easy one, the one with evidence that Stephanie didn’t possess. 

Thankfully, Thomas replied, seemingly disinterested, “He attended Heights for a short time in the transition to Brentwood.” Although Stephanie knew this to be true, to have it confirmed by Thomas made her smile a little. Proud of herself to get an answer correct.

Richard noticed the small smile and scoffed, putting down his cup like the small amount of happiness Steph had come across as an invitation for him to attack, “He would have been a freshman then?”

Realising he was going to build this into something, Stephanie was reluctant to nod in confirmation.

“And you were a..?” His hand fell open flat towards her, encouraging Steph to finish the sentence.

“Junior.”

Richard’s face showed a state of confusion, his head crocking slightly, “Why would a junior, and a freshman -who was only at their school for a short amount of time- remember each other enough that they recognised each other at opposite ends of a hallway?”

From the corner of her eye, Steph could see Thomas look up over his tablet, giving Richard a disapproving look. Stephanie also thought the question was very on the nose. She shifted slightly as an uncomfortable feeling came over her. It was supporting that Richard was given the whole breakdown before she’d gotten to breakfast. Perhaps he and Thomas had spoken the night before? Stephanie couldn’t add that time line up. 

However blunt the question was, Stephanie was prepared for it, which surprised her. “Tim took a lot of advanced classes with me,” she stated, trying to remove the uncertainty in her voice, “We also did some extra-credit work together.”

Once again, she didn’t need to lie. Which was good, because Stephanie had a hard time barefaced lying.

Richard took a moment to relax his face, he looked towards Thomas again, but the man was actively typing on his screen and didn’t meet his eye. With a press of his lips, Richard once again took a deep drink from his coffee before pushing away from the table. As he rose to his feet, Richard finished the conversation, “That’s what he said too. I’ll be downstairs” He was walking out the room before either Thomas or Steph could really react.

Stephanie was always surprised by how  _ sporadic _ Richard’s moods could be. He went from a seemingly fine greeting, to overly accusing questioning, to retreating. She watched him walk around the table, his seemingly lanky body was graceful in a way that Steph envied. 

Once Richard was out of her eye line, she shifted her attention to Thomas, who was also watching his eldest’s near dramatic exit. As always, Steph struggled to read his expression, but the way he stared unblinking over the rim of his glasses made her uncomfortable and looked away again.

There was a moment of silence, not even Richard’s light footsteps made a sound. Eventually, Thomas went back to his tablet, finishing whatever it was he was typing.

Steph hated how thankful she was that Richard left. She saw the man as more of a threat than the others. Because of how erratic he can be, so quick to attack or mock. Emotionally young, she had realised too late, he was like a toddler with equal parts tantrums and laughter. It was almost the exact opposite of Thomas, who, even though it may not seem it, will never act without thought and reason. As long as Steph doesn’t poke the bear, Thomas was content to simply use her, without feeling the need to drag her down more than necessary.

Because of this, when Stephanie finished the pastry, she did so slowly and mindful of her throat. Taking a drink of water, Steph helped herself to a croissant, something she wouldn’t have considered if anyone else was in the room. The less time she spent with the other’s, the better, but now there was no rush, Thomas will leave when he’s ready, regardless of the young woman.

A comfortable silence fell between the two, Thomas drank more of his coffee and Steph picked at her croissant. It allowed Steph’s mind to think over what just happened. Try and understand what Richard was getting to before he walked out, seemingly randomly. Why had her and Tim’s stories matching up made him so... Frustrated? Angry?

Steph realized then that it must have spoken to Tim the night before, regardless of Thomas. If Richard had given him a line of questioning similar to hers, then Tim must have some type of rapport with him. They must have known each other for some time.

There was a question forming on Steph’s tongue, but she was reluctant to speak it and gain the attention from Thomas. But, as normal, Steph’s head wasn’t properly connected to her mouth.

“Has Tim been staying here long?”

Thomas didn’t look up, he’d stopped typing and his eyes shifted over the screen, showing Steph he was reading something. Despite it being the weekend, he wore a dress shirt and tie, the jacket likely hanging somewhere only Alfred knew. He took his time to reply, “I don’t see how that’s any of your concern.”

Although extremely unhelpful, Steph was glad for the barren response over a reactionary one. It told Steph the man was, at the moment at least, just as willing to ignore her as she was him. Stephanie relaxed a lot more after that, drinking another coffee and getting a piece of fruit from the side table. Only the rain as background noise. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! I've been wanting to take this seriously, like, more seriously than just turning out random chapters at night and posting them straight away hoping it lines up. So I've dragged my IRL friend into helping me (Thanks Mia!!). She isn't a massive DC fan so it was, and is, interesting getting her opinion in this very specific universe.  
> Basically, the first two chapters were made into one, the next chapter was changed a little and everything else is going to be completely different.
> 
> Aiming to update this (or something) once a month but I am notorious for abandonment and writer's block so no promises...  
> ENJOY!


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